Hellbound- FMA Fan-Fiction
by ThatOneManiac
Summary: Adelynn Flynn is dead... For now. But, when she comes back, the missions set upon her by the seven deadly sins to gain the trust of two young alchemists may leave her dead yet again... I wonder how this showdown will go.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1- An introduction to how I died (Adelynn)

Bombs fell around the countryside, and smoke mixed with dust of fallen buildings drifted through the air, causing soldiers and other alchemists to cough. I raised my cloak to cover my nose and mouth, trying to filter out the stifling particles that blew around on the wind. Other people ran around me like a pack of wolves without an alpha, confused, hurt, and tired. More bombshells fell, more cracks were heard resonating throughout the air, boulders and trees breaking down after years of resisting the elements, gone, in the blink of an eye. It truly was saddening, to see things that were created being destroyed so easily… I like to hunt my prey, after all.

I should probably introduce myself, tell you about me, you know, that juicy stuff. My name should be a good start. It's Adelynn Flynn, my age is 16, and, to date, I am the fourth youngest State Alchemist involved in the war of Ishbal. Not voluntarily, I assure you. I was born in Briggs, on December 4th, with three older siblings, and wonderful parents. My eldest brother was a soldier, and after he died in a street skirmish, I joined the military to take his place, and for the closure of the rest of my family. My sister taught me alchemy before I found someone to teach it to me, at which point I left, at age thirteen, determined to do something, anything, with my life. I was drafted into the war not long after passing the test.. How did I do it, you ask? Simple, I broke all the other alchemists' creations, causing me to be the only one with anything left to show, all the things I broke… That's how I earned my title, after all. I am, truly, as I stand before you, the Broken Alchemist of Briggs.

Another bombshell fell behind the rest of my troop, the explosion blowing my bangs into my eyes. It wasn't uncommon, people rarely had good aim in this war. I glanced back, and saw a man fall to the ground, hard.

"GARAMOND!" I yelled over the echo of the explosion, running toward one of my fallen comrades, his hair soaked in blood. Three of my other comrades beat me to his side. I looked around, trying to find out if others had been hurt. A captain was being tended to, but he looked decent. Only Lieutenant Garamond seemed to have life-threatening injuries. I made it to him, kneeled next to him, elevated his head, looking into his already clouding eyes, feeling the warm lap of the sticky blood covering the knees of my uniform.

"There's nothing we can do Flynn." Thompson placed a hand on my shoulder. I whipped my head around.

"We can take him somewhere safe. Preserve his body until we can get him back home to his family." I muttered. With Thompson's help, we each took an arm around our shoulders, dragging him towards an abandoned building. We left him there, thinking he would be safe, for now.

Boy, were we wrong.

We headed back into the battlefield, watching dust be kicked up by civilians and militants alike.

We walked into town, dodging hunks of rock and flashes of stray alchemy twisting around the alleyways. Looking up to the rooftops, I saw something flash by in the corner of my eye.

"Look, over there." I tapped Thompson's shoulder, pointing to the rooftops. As he looked up, the burning body of a small boy fell towards our heads, the putrid smell of charred flesh filling the air around us.

"DUCK!" Thompson yelled, our comrades running to the walls, hitting the ground. I grabbed Thompson's hand, forcing him to the ground. The boy hit the ground, blood splattered around the point of impact.

"Is he dead?" Thompson asked, dazed.

"He'd have to be a super-human to survive that…" I muttered. We kneeled next to his body, his clothes charred and his mouth twisted into a neverending silent scream.

"We should figure out who did this…" Thompson whispered hoarsely, looking towards the rooftops, dark grey clouds rolling overhead.

"Lead the way, Lieutenant Colonel." Rolling my eyes slightly, giving Thompson a hand up, to where he grabbed a window-ledge and hoisted himself up to the next handhold.

I jumped up to the window as soon as Thompson was clear, couching before jumping again, stretching my arms as high as possible towards the next ledge.

Grunting, I hauled myself up again, reaching for the eavestrough on the roof, the last handhold. Thompson was already up there, and the rest of our platoon had gone to investigate the area.

"Anything up there?" I grunted as I finally raised myself onto the roof, my arms shaking. I stood up and saw Thompson turn towards me, pointing behind me. I turned, and saw nothing there.

"What are you looking at?" I asked, turning back to face him. Startled, I took a small step back, stepping on the rim of the eavestrough. He wasn't there. Turning back to the other roof, I saw a man had appeared, holding the decapitated head of my friend. He let go of Thompson's hair, letting his head fall to the street below.

"You rat bastard." I growled. "Who are you?"

"Who? That's subjective." He responded. "To you, I'm Rat Bastard, according to you."

"What the hell is your game?" I asked him, anger kept pooling in the pit of my stomach.

"What?"

"Did I fucking stutter? What do you want."

"What do you want?"

"Stop playing games in my head…" The fact that this man had the nerve to try and get away with this was disgusting.

"What are you going to do about it?" The smirk on this man's face was enough to drive me to violence, not that I didn't already have those tendencies…I didn't plan to act on them, or, that was until he tried to kill me.

The knife whizzed past my head. Gasping, I grabbed my ear, the nick the knife had left, burning and sticky with blood.

"I'll show you what I'll do about it." I slipped my black cloak off my shoulders, revealing the dark red jumpsuit underneath. Grinning maniacally, I made a circle around the silver pendant on my neck, condensing the air and releasing it, causing all the shingles and rooftop to crack, crumble, and break. It reached him so quickly, he screamed as the alchemy broke his legs, his spine, and probably a few ribs as well.

"Not smiling now, are you, you rat bastard." I jumped the roof over to him, looking down at him, my cloak slung over my shoulder, brown hair blowing in front of my face. The man's face was screwed up in pain, but as he looked past me, I saw the smirk come back to his face.

"I'm not done yet…" He muttered. I glanced behind me, before fully turning around, terrified. There, I saw someone who I never thought I would see stand again.

"Thompson?" I asked, stunned. I glanced down at the street, seeing that the head I thought was my friend had become the head of the burnt Ishabalan child. A cloaking enchantment.

"I'm sorry about this Flynn." Thompson said softly. As I looked back up, I saw him shakily pointing a gun at my forehead. "I need the money… My mother… I can't let her die without trying everything-"

His sentence was cut off as I punched him in the nose.

"Well, if we're using that as an excuse, I can't die until I try everything"

He spun from the force of the punch, raising his foot and using his momentum to kick me in the stomach, I flew through the air, landing hard, but spinning back onto my feet, struggling to breathe. My hands circled the pendant, before I smashed them into the ground, the shingles cracking and breaking into sharps spikes, racing towards his feet as he stooped down and grabbed his gun. He shot towards me, the bullet shooting through my stomach. I was flung backwards, and, after a few seconds, I struggled back up.

"You... "

I stood up, my legs shaking.

"You bastard. You coward." I coughed, falling to my knees again, my hand covered in blood, my own blood. It made me queasy. I looked up towards him, satisfied that my alchemy had met its target. He had fallen forwards, impaled by the terra cotta shards. I stood up again, laughing a little bit, adrenaline coursing through my veins and shock meddling with my brain.

I turned around, seeing the Ishabalan man from before had disappeared… Still giggling, I found a cloth lean-to connected the the building I was on, letting myself fall down onto it, rolling off and stumbling through the streets, the creepy laughter causing me to attract the judging stares from passing soldiers.

I turned a corner into an alley, seeing an Ishvalan child cowering against the wall as an Ishvalan man dressed in a military uniform cowered over him. Non-believers were uncommon, but not non-existent…

"Traitors…" I muttered. "Stupid…" He turned towards me.

"I could say the same thing for you…" another voice sounded from behind me. "We found Thompson's body… And it was your signature alchemy that killed him. You killed him, Flynn. An eye for an eye… Or, how do you alchemists say- equivilant exchange… Yes, that's it." I turned around, and was greeted with a gun to my forehead… The safety clicked off, and I fell to my knees, knowing I would die anyways, I had lost too much blood.

"Go ahead then…" I whispered. The girl gasped, her tears littering the ground as well as the spitting rain. "Go ahead… Kill me… I don't mind…"

The bullet rang through the air, and I fell to the ground, the lightswitch of the outside world turned off.

A dark giggle emanated from my lips, as my hazel eyes closed.


	2. Chapter 2-Another level of Hell, Unknown

Chapter 2- Another Level of Hell, Unknown.

If I had been able to feel anything besides the heavy darkness, then I would've sworn I was sinking into the ground. That was until I fell through it.

The ground below turned into the ceiling above me in less than a second. Looking around, the white-ish natural light slowly faded into a dark-red shadow.

"Adelynn Flynn, eh? Killing someone before being killed yourself. They won't let you go to heaven anymore, so welcome, Ms. Flynn, to Hell." A deep, booming voice echoed around me. I turned my head, trying to find the source of the voice.

"Who are you, you freak?!" I tried to project my voice to sound confident, although I know that, in this environment, I am the prey, no matter what. This is not my place, not my domain. And I except that. Here, I felt naked, weak, childish. But, at the same time, I felt more and more empowered the further into this place the voice called Hell. If this truly was Hell, as I was taught, then I have been taught wrong my entire life.

I continued to drift downwards. The further I got, the more I started to see what looked like outlines of circles on the dimly lit walls. As I passed one labeled "Level 3" I realized what I was looking at.

These were the circles of Hell. And, slowly but surely, I was heading to the seventh.

I looked closer at the walls, and the longer I looked, the more I saw.

The more I saw, faces twisted in pain from the tortures of hell, running through cactus fields naked, being placed into a pot of oil. I watched, and saw people, long dead, being trapped in cardboard boxes and suffocated, unable to die again. I saw people who were being forced to stab themselves, again, and again. I saw many other things, things to disturbing to even think about.

And the worst part was, the further down I went, the worse it got. However, when I finally reached the 'bottom' of this neverending pit, the images finally stopped, to be replaced by a blaring blood red. I landed softly, kneeling in front of a throne that seemed to be made up completely of shadow.

"You are Satan, I presume."

"You are correct, Ms. Flynn."

I didn't look upwards, trying my hardest to remain respectful. If I was going to spend the rest of eternity here, I don't want to get on Satan's bad side on Day 1.

"Ms. Flynn, do you know why you are here?"

"Because I killed someone before being killed myself?"

"Incorrect."

It was at this that I forced myself to look up at the man sitting on the Shadow-Throne. He didn't quite look the same as you would think. He had red skin, black floppy hair, was about 5"11, and was wearing modern clothing. Barely the fiery goat man we were taught to believe in.

"Excuse me?"

"You don't know why you're here?"

"No, sir."

"Do you want me to tell you?"

"Yes sir." I responded quickly and remotely.

"You are here because I wanted you here." Surprised at this statement, I raised my eyebrows at Mr. Satan.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I wanted you here, to come to me. And now I'm going to expel you. See, my sons and daughters, the seven sins, need someone expendable. You're powerful enough to not be easily expended. Yet, you are still expendable."

"Expendable…"

"Yes… Goodbye Ms. Flynn. I'll see you in your nightmares-" The platform was whipped away, replaced by nothing but blackness. And after that, nothing but blinding pain. I heard screams echo around the empty chasm, and after a moment I realized it came from my own mouth. The back on my shirt ripped open, whip marks making the skin rise. I felt invisible chains wrap around my ankles and hands, dragging me, marking my ankles and wrists with red welts. Black fire lapped over the left side of my body, branding me with the black fires of hell.

A bright flash of light and a cold blast of air brought me back to the real world, and I was only aware of the table that was beneath me.

"Can I eat her?"


End file.
